


The Unlikely's

by FallingInAForest



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: All of the powers are contradictory to what happens to them, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, And ironic in a way, And it has to be sad first, But also cool, I will try to make this worthwhile, Larry isn't all that bad of a dad, One-Sided Relationship, Suicide Attempt, Superpowers AU, and happy, but useful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-02 16:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13321893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingInAForest/pseuds/FallingInAForest
Summary: Evan Hansen decides to end his life two days before school starts for the year, and climbs the highest tree. But when he jumps, something magical happens and he doesn't hit the ground. Instead, he floats above the ground.Connor Murphy decides to end his life the night before school starts. However, he finds that he can't, no matter how many pills he swallows. Looks like he's stuck here.Alana Beck has never wanted anything more than to be seen. To not feel like she could disappear. However, on the first day of school when she goes to give her welcome back speech, no one can see her.Zoe Murphy wasn't paying attention. She had a lot on her mind, but no excuses would stop her car from crashing on the way home on the first day of school. When it crashed, she couldn't help but to admire the way the windshield shattered, broken in nearly seconds. A tragic kind of beauty. Head aching, she reached up to touch it, but when her hand reaches her head, it seems to take the pain away.  It was probably just a coincidence, though.Jared Kleinman didn't like pretending. To be like everyone else, that is. But no matter what, he always seems to mimic everyone else...





	1. Falling in Reverse

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I normally steer clear from superhero AU's, but this idea struck me like lightning and I couldn't ignore it. I really hope you all enjoy :)

Evan's POV

Once upon a time, Evan Hansen was a happy boy. As a child, he could remember laughing on the swingset, his dad pushing him and his mother watching. They were both there for him, and that had been perfect. That was enough.  
  
But Evan's dad left years ago, and Evan was at the point where only a miniscule amount of happy memories of him were left. For example, on his fifth birthday, his cake toppled on the floor and Evan cried, but he remembered that his dad drove all the way across town for another strawberry cake with blue and yellow sprinkles on it, and Evan was so happy that he gripped onto his father's leg for most of the remainder of the day as a way of continually thanking him, and in some form, hugging him.   
  
But he did not remember the day his dad left. His mind had determined long ago that that memory was too painful for him to have, so he blocked it out.  
  
That got Evan wondering if Heidi would block him out when he was gone. Heidi was a good mom, Evan knew that. He knew that she tried, really tried. But all in all, that didn't mean she understood him or his anxiety. Evan knew she would be better off without him. Everyone would, actually. So that's why he decided to do the unspeakable.  
  
Currently speaking, Evan was walking across a field to one of the tallest trees at Ellison State Park. He was volunteering here as an Apprentice Park Ranger for the summer, or at least was volunteering here. Was starting today.  
  
So this would be the tree. The tree that he was going to climb until the sun shines on his face for the last time.  
  
As a newly self-declared tree expert, Evan didn't think that this tree was unique. In fact, even to him, who appreciated trees, it appeared bland, and there was nothing special about it.  
  
But Evan decided that it was fitting, as nothing was special about him. There was nobody who really cared about him, except his mom, but that's what mom's were supposed to do. Nothing Evan ever did really mattered, and he figured that this wouldn't matter to anyone either.  
  
One foot after the other, one branch and then to another, Evan climbed. His eyes were closed most of the way up, because he didn't want to chicken out, and if he saw how high he would be falling from, he wouldn't be able to do it. Eventually, the sun shines on him so brightly, and he knew he had reached the top.  
  
And when Evan opened his eyes, he realized how beautiful it was. The sky was light blue, with pink streaks mixed in and the trees swayed beautifully in the light wind. But Evan wasn't about to let irony ruin his decision.  
  
At the same time though, it would be a shame to waste this beautiful day by dying. So Evan ripped a handful of leafs off of a nearby branch. One by one, he dropped them all to determine his fate.  
  
_One. He would jump._  
_Two. He would climb down._  
_Three. He would die today._  
_Four. He would live to eat his mother's mashed potatoes again while cuddled up in a blanket watching a documentary._  
_Five. He would die so she could be free to finish night school. Free to leave the house for however long she needed to. Free from him._  
  
And that was it, the leafs were gone, their fates now with the wind. But Evan's was decided. And on the count of three, he let go. It was a terrifying feeling, but he knew it would all be over soon.  
  
He braced himself, ready to feel pain before he felt nothing at all, but even though the falling stopped, he didn't land.  
  
In fact, he was floating in the air, only about three feet above the ground. At first, Evan didn't know what to think. Was this all a sick dream? Was he already dead?  
  
But he knew this was reality, he really did. Either way, it was absurd. How in the hell was he going to explain this to someone? And how was he going to get down?  
  
Although, he didn't have to wonder for very long, because all of a sudden, it stopped, and he fell again, right on his left arm, and the pain was so great at first, that it went numb. So he layed there, waiting for someone to find him, but not in the same way that he thought someone would have to find him. Because he was alive. Maybe it was a miracle, or a sign saying he needed to live, or maybe it was something that wasn't supposed to be understood.  
  
Either way, it had saved his life, which was now changed forever. 


	2. Undying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why the fuck can't Connor Murphy accomplish his goal of the day: death?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very proud of this chapter, but it's a thing! So I hope some of you can enjoy it??
> 
> Anyways, this chapter is a big red flag for those of you who are triggered by suicide, so be careful when reading this.

Connor POV   
  
At times, death was thought of as inevitable. Others, it was thought of as a tragedy. To Connor, the definition of death was today.   
  
It was the day before his senior year would start, and unlike most kids, he wasn't preparing or freaking out. Because he would not be going. In fact, he wouldn't even be there to have the option of going.   
  
Connor Murphy was going to kill himself. The thought had popped into his mind plenty of times before, but the previous week it had done so in an unshakable way, and Connor knew that this time he would actually do it.   
  
The thought filled him with both adrenaline and the ironic feeling that he was unstoppable. This was his way out.   
  
His way out of what? Well, that's where it gets complicated. Connor Murphy was not from a family of terrible people, so his family wasn't the problem. Sure, people at school sucked, but he could handle them. He wasn't super poor, so money wasn't a strain on him. But either way, he was going to do it. He had the bottle of pills to prove it.   
  
He blamed most of his reasoning on the mental issues he had noticed, where he was unable to control his anger, and also because he lived in a constant state of lows, with few highs in sight, which was probably why he got high all of the time. For Connor, living was simply _a lot_. And he was tired of it, so he wasn't going to anymore.   
  
When he headed downstairs to the kitchen, he was greeted with the smell of pancakes and syrup, made by his mother. Grabbing a plate, he located the three best looking pancakes and threw them onto his plate. Covering them in butter and syrup, he sat down at the table. Only one thought clouded his head: this was his last day of being alive. Focusing on this fact, he blocked out everything that was going on around him.   
  
So what in the hell was he going to do about it? He had less than 24 hours to correct or to do whatever he wanted before it was all over. Maybe he would visit the park, or drive Zoe somewhere, or entertain his dad and actually use his baseball glove. He could even spend it making his mom happy, because he loved it when she smiled.   
  
Usually, Cynthia was tired. Between making breakfast, doing all of the house chores, and keeping up her appearances with all of the other rich moms, there wasn't time for her to rest ever.   
  
But on the other hand, he could be selfish. He could act like a King, demanding whatever he wanted. It was his day after all. Although, there wouldn't be any point in that. Connor didn't want to be on top of the world anyway. He didn't want to be in it, that was the whole issue.   
  
"Connor?" A loud voice asks, grounding him to the real world once more.   
  
"Oh, uh, what'd you say?" Connor asks.   
  
"Your mother was asking if you were okay," Larry says from behind his newspaper.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Connor grumbles. "I'm just tired."  
  
"Alright, you should get some rest then, school starts tomorrow," Cynthia says, and then asks Zoe how she is.   
  
"I'm fine, mom. But I'm going to Alana's house today to help her prepare for her big welcome back speech, remember?" Zoe says, sawing her pancake in half.   
  
"Yeah, of course I remember," Cynthia says with a smile. "Are you guys excited? Connor, it's going to be your senior year!"  
  
"Oh, yeah. Super..." Connor mumbles, shoving the last piece of pancake into his mouth.   
  
"Connor, your mother is trying to have a real conversation with you," Larry says, before getting up. "I'll be off."  
  
With that, he grabbed his keys and walked out the door, leaving for work. Connor didn't say anything else, and Zoe headed upstairs, leaving Cynthia and Connor at the dining table.   
  
"So do you have anywhere you're going to go today?" Cynthia asks, a concerned edge to her tone.   
  
"No, not really..." Connor says, not knowing what turn the conversation was about to take.   
  
"Well, Zoe's going to a friend's house, so I thought that maybe..." Cynthia begins.   
  
"Mom, we're not going to talk about this today," Connor mutters, rolling his eyes. Of course she wants to make him feel like shit because he doesn't really have any friends. Well, it won't work. Especially not today. Because if it's not today, then it'll be never.   
  
"We worry about you sometimes, Con," Cynthia says, trying to make her voice sound soothing to prevent Connor's impending anger from escalating.   
  
"Well, stop," Connor says simply, trying to count to 10 in his head. Today was not the day to get angry. Today was not the day. Usually, he would let himself get angry at everything. Because if he's angry at everybody else, he doesn't have to be angry at himself. It was foolproof plan, really.   
  
But today he was okay with being angry at himself instead, because he knew how the day would end, and that would give him a chance to end his life on a high note, so maybe everyone would remember him as better than he was.   
  
"We're your parents. We'll always worry about you," Cynthia says. Always. Connor almost laughed at the word.   
  
"I'm doing fine, okay?" Connor argues, standing up to return to his room.   
  
"If you ever need anything..." Cynthia begins, but Connor doesn't listen anymore. Instead, he walks back up to his room and locks the door.   
  
When he closed the door, he tried to see his room in a new light. The way his family would see it after he was gone. He noticed his lazily placed books on his bookshelf, and the empty gum wrappers he left cluttered on his nightstand. There were some dirty clothes laying on his floor as well, but overall his room wasn't terrible.   
  
After he finished disposing of the wrappers and dirty clothes, he began sorting his books. He didn't know why he suddenly cared about that stupid bookshelf that Cynthia made him get, but now he needed it to look nice.   
  
Afterwards, he sat on his unmade bed and stared at the too drawer of his dresser, which contained some old clothes and the bottle of pills he had smuggled.   
  
Maybe that meant that he should be focusing on the pills, but as he stared at the drawer, he could only think about the red jacket in it.   
  
He had abandoned it a couple years ago, because it was getting really worn in and his mother wanted him to have a new one, so he gave in.   
  
But that jacket had belonged to the age of 16. And for Connor Murphy, 16 was a good year, at least at the beginning. His anger had been at an all time low, which made his family talk to him more, and that included Zoe. Yes, Zoe. Since he had been 16 and acquired his license fairly quickly, there were times that he drove Zoe.   
  
Sometimes it would just be to run an errand, but others he took her out to eat or to some place they could hang out together, and they both had enjoyed it. That was the last time they really got along, because as 17 rolled around, his anger had returned, and with full force.   
  
_Knock, knock._  
  
"Yeah?" Connor asks, confused by the knocking on his door, because more often than not, people left him alone when he was in his room, which thinking about it now made Connor wonder if that was because they were afraid of him.   
  
"Zoe's car isn't working, can she drive yours to Alana's house?" Cynthia asks cautiously, knowing that Connor wasn't a fan of others driving his van.   
  
"I can take her," Connor offers, surprising himself more than anything. He supposes he did so because he had just been thinking about how he used to drive her, but either way he had been subconsciously hoping on ignoring Zoe today.   
  
"Really? That would be great, Connor!" Cynthia exclaims, happy that they would have some bonding time.   
  
Getting up to leave, Connor takes one more look at his top drawer, and stops dead in his tracks. He then opens it, and digs out the red jacket. Quickly, he puts it on and zips it up, newly ready to leave his room.   
  
After doing so, he walks downstairs to the living room, and sees Zoe standing there, ready to leave already, most likely because she had already wanted to leave before she found out that her car wouldn't work.   
  
"Can we go now? Alana's probably waiting for me." Zoe says, somewhat impatiently, but isn't pushing her boundaries.   
  
"Yeah, let's go," Connor says, keys in hand.   
  
When they were in the car, at first, Zoe gave general directions to Alana's house, and otherwise sat in silence, staring out the window, watching the raindrops fall from outside.   
  
However, one time she may have turned a little too quickly or lost her focus because then she started talking to him in the same way that she used to.  
  
"Do you think the rain will stop?" She asks, her eyes sparkling as she stares at it in admiration.   
  
At first, Connor was shocked, but then he answered, "It looks like it has a mind of its own."  
  
"Yeah, I guess it does," She says, this time a whisper, because she must've realized that she wasn't 15, and he wasn't 16, and they weren't supposed to be on good terms. His jacket was just a jacket, not a symbol. But she still replied, because of course she wanted them to be.   
  
"See ya later," Connor says at the exact time Zoe says thanks when they arrive at Alana's house. And for a moment, they looked each other in the eyes and give each other faint smiles.   
  
And then Zoe was gone. She left the car, and raced up to the porch to lessen her time in the rain. Waiting until she was let inside, Connor drove back home.   
  
When he got there, his mother greeted him right away, and informed him that she was leaving.  
  
"Already?" Connor asks, knowing what it would mean if he was home alone today. It's not that he didn't want to do it, he just didn't expect the opportunity to be so early in the day, before lunchtime had even ended.   
  
"Yeah, one of the ladies in the Group thought it'd be a good idea to do a brunch rather than a lunch," Cynthia says. "I'll see you when I get home."  
  
And before Connor knew it, she was gone, and he was alone. He waited five minutes to make sure Cynthia hadn't forgotten anything and would turn back, and then he went upstairs.   
  
Upstairs is where he found the bottle of pills that would do the job. Supposedly, a handful would be enough. And he waited a moment, but nothing happened, and out of frustration, he took the rest of the pills, and found his eyes growing tired.  
  
He thought that that meant they had worked, that it was finally over, but a blink or two's length of a nap later he woke up.   
  
He was supposed to be dead, Dammit. What the fuck was going on? Could he seriously not even kill himself the right way?  
  
Angrily, he chucked the empty bottle, stormed off to the bathroom, and filled the bathtub. Fine, drowning wasn't such a bad idea either.   
  
Fully dressed, he climbed into the bathtub and held himself down under the water, letting water flow into his lungs as if it were air, never loosening his grip.   
  
Even after minutes upon minutes had passed of him purposefully breathing in water, Connor Murphy wasn't dying. His lungs hurt like Hell, but that was it.   
  
Dammit. Even more time passed, and he wasn't going anywhere. More frustrated than before, he got out of the bathtub, soaking wet and coughing up water. Sure, air filled his lungs again and that should feel good, but instead the air tasted like shards of glass, mocking him.   
  
He supposed that that was when he lost it. Marching to the kitchen, he grabbed a knife, and stabbed himself with it right where his heart should be several times, and even then, with all of the blood and all of the pain, he was alive.   
  
He could feel the pain of the wound and the hot blood seeping out so vividly that he eventually passed out, but he didn't die. That would be too easy, right? Instead, he woke up, and knew that he wouldn't be dying today. And that pissed him off, but didn't at the same time.   
  
Taking the knife out of his chest, he stuck it into the sink to clean later. Clutching his wound, he went up to his room and grabbed some clothes. He may as well take a shower, right? Nobody needs blood sticking to them all day.   
  
So he took a shower, bandaged his wound, and put new clothes on. Afterwards, he went downstairs and began doing the dishes, including cleaning the knife, so nonchalantly that he wanted to laugh.   
  
Maybe he could think of the whole ordeal as a miracle. But honestly, this just meant that he'd have to attend senior year after all, and that was nowhere near a miracle.   
  
When he was in the middle of doing the dishes, his mother walked in with a smile.   
  
"You're doing the dishes!" She exclaimed, and hugged him. "I'm so proud of you."  
  
And in that moment, Connor wanted to send a big fuck off to irony. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And???

**Author's Note:**

> How was it?
> 
> Feel free to leave feedback!
> 
> I would really appreciate it, negative or positive! :)
> 
> By the way, I do intend for future chapters to be longer, but with introduction chapters, as they will most likely only be one scene, will most likely be on the shorter side.


End file.
